


Brother Dearest, or Damian's Bonding with Tim

by Living_Free



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable Damian, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Hilarity, Jason uses his family as props in his twisted sitcom imaginings, Misunderstandings, batbrats, batbros, batfamily, daddy!Bats, dami's a man on a mission, dick "cuddlebug" grayson, film school would have loved to have you jay, he missed his true calling, he spreads love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:56:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Bruce sets Damian a mission - of love.Dick would be so proud right now.





	Brother Dearest, or Damian's Bonding with Tim

Bruce looked ponderingly at his youngest son, who was placidly milking Batcow in the corner of the cave. In all the time that he had been living with Bruce and his children, Damian had only managed to forge meaningful relationships with his animals, who loved him unconditionally and showered him with affectionate nuzzles, and Dick, who loved him unconditionally, and-

Oh. 

Perhaps there was a pattern to this, Bruce mused, as he watched Dick cuddle up to Tim on the medical cot, squishing the younger boy as he curled himself around him like a snake. “Dick, don't smother your brother,” Bruce called. “Let him rest, he's sick.” Tim gave a sad sniffle as Dick slunk off to go and cuddle Jason instead. That could only end in tears, Bruce thought to himself, watching Dick slide closer, panther-like, to a recalcitrant Jason. 

Bruce directed his attention back to Damian, who was scoffing quietly at Tim’s pained moans, and frowned. This lack of empathy simply would not do. Bruce resolved to do something about Damian’s behavior towards Tim, but in the meantime, he took a moment to watch Dick try and fail in his efforts to snuggle Jason. 

\------------

It was late at night - or very early in the morning - as Bruce watched Damian putter around the Batcave in his too-long Gotham University t-shirt, courtesy of Dick. 

Bruce waited for Damian to walk a little closer before snagging his youngest and plopping him down on his lap. “Father! Have you been afflicted by Grayson’s ridiculous urge to “have hugsies”!? Release me at once!”

“Not until I've said my piece,” Bruce hummed, adjusting Damian on his lap. “Now listen carefully, Damian, what I'm about to tell you is very important.” Damian perked up and sat at attention, eager to absorb whatever pearl of wisdom Bruce was about to impart. “You've been Dick’s Robin for some time now, and mine as well. You're doing a good job, and so I would like to give you some more delicate responsibilities,” Bruce said, then paused for dramatic effect.

“It is your responsibility to look after not only the animals, but also your siblings, specifically Tim.” Damian made to scoff, but Bruce cut him off, “Your old father won't be here forever, and you know that Tim is sick. He tends to work himself to the edge, and I can't help but worry about what will happen to him once I'm gone.”

Bruce let his words sink in, and felt a little guilty at how Damian’s eyes widened at the mention of his inevitable mortal death. “Robin holds the family together, he or she always has,” Bruce added. “Starting with Dick, then Jason, until the Legacy passed down to you. Dick only had me to take care of, but you have your brother as well. So Damian,” Bruce said, meeting his son’s wide eyes, “will you do it? Can I count on you to take care of Tim when I'm old and decrepit? Forever?”

Damian squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I will,” he said firmly. “I will care for everyone, including Drake. He will know a love so fierce that he will learn to submit to my tender ministrations!”

Bruce frowned at Damian’s war cry, but decided that it would have to do for now. 

\-----------

Tim roused himself from the clutches of sleep, sniffling to clear his blocked nose. He rubbed his gritty eyes and forced them open, only to reveal poisonous green eyes looking right into his. 

“Agh!”

Damian held up a pot of tea and a handful of Strepsils, and said, “Take these, Drake.”

Tim hiked his blankets up to his chin in response, looking at the strained expression on Damian’s face. “What at you dong with your face?” 

“I'm smiling,” Damian hissed through (what Tim imagined were) his fangs. 

“Oh my god, why, you evil gnome?” 

The “smile” grew wider. “Because I love and care for you. Now,” Damian whispered sinisterly, “take your medicine, Drake.”

“AAGH!”

\----------

Tim ran upstairs two at a time, tears obscuring his vision. He had just argued with Conner about his unhealthy (it was not) intake of coffee, which resulted in Conner calling him a hopeless addict and declaring that coffee would lead to his downfall and that he would not catch Tim when he inevitably fell. 

This had resulted in Tim slapping his mouthy boyfriend and running out of Titans Tower all the way back to Wayne Manor, where he could drown himself in a pot of coffee and Dick’s All Purpose Hugs for Family and Friends. 

This was how Damian found his brothers, with Tim sobbing into Dick’s stomach, and clutching a bag of coffee beans to his chest. “How c-could he s-say that to me? After all the t-t-times he was upset about Clark, and L-Lex, and I calmed him down?”

“I know, I know,” Dick sympathized, and imparted the age old bit of wisdom that Bruce had once imparted to him, “All men are dogs, and he doesn't deserve you.”

Hidden behind the wall, Damian simmered with rage. If Drake cried himself sick, then he would make the clone pay. 

It was time for preemptive measures. 

\-----------

Later that afternoon, Tim received a delivery of a bouquet of roses and a note that read:

“Dearest Drake,

I apologize for my inexcusable behavior with the hopes that you will see fit to forgive me. Please do not cry yourself into an early grave, for if you do, I shall exile myself to a life of misery in the far reaches of outer space, living with your memory as my only companion. 

Much emotion and mouth kisses unto you.

Yours,

The Clone.”

Tim stared at the note in abject horror, before inspecting the roses, only to fling them away when he noticed that they were a pitch black colour with a crudely (creepily) drawn cardboard smiley face stuck to them that was saying “I LOVE YOU DRAKE” in a speech bubble. 

Tim’s resultant shriek was Damian’s indication that the plan had not been successful. 

\-----------

With his original plan in shambles, Damian headed to Titans Tower. He strode inside, stopping when he got to Conner. Conner looked down at the tiny Robin in surprise, and was further shocked when he was yanked down to his eye level by his shirt. 

“Listen here, Clone,” Damian hissed, “If Drake succumbs to illness because you have caused him distress, I will skin you alive and present your pelt to him to have stuffed and use as target practice. You will make amends immediately, do you understand me?” He demanded, brandishing his favourite knife. 

Conner went cross-eyed as he nodded while trying to keep the blade in sight. “Good,” Damian said, satisfied. “You will now thank me for saving your relationship with Drake. Though he is the least of us, he is still far out of your league. Come to think of it, we Waynes are out of everyone’s league,” he muttered to himself. 

Conner continued to stare, dumbfounded, as Damian waited for his undying gratitude. “Bah, you're as dull as an ameboa,” Damian huffed. “Make amends quickly, Clone, I don't want to have failed in my mission because of you.”

With that, Damian left, returning to Wayne Manor where he was anticipating Tim’s praise and everlasting worship.

\------------

How wrong he was.

“Damian,” Bruce said, discomfort written across his face, “come here.” Damian went to Bruce with his head held high, and smirked at Tim who was partially hidden behind Bruce. 

“Ah, Drake, you're here. Are you going to profess your undying love and worship for me now? It's to be expected, after all, I've been taking such good care of you.”

Tim cried in horror as Bruce hid his face in his hands. “You see!?” Tim shrieked, “He's lost his mind! He wants me to love him!”

“Of course I do! It is only natural, given my tender care of your person!”

“AAGH!”

“Damian-” Bruce started, but was cut off by Dick and Jason charging into the room. 

“League of Assassins spotted on top of the Gotham Metro! They're wreacking havoc in the city!” 

Bruce gave his younger sons a stern look before ordering them to go and suit up, hoping that Damian’s new obsession over Tim would not be a roadblock in their fight for justice. 

“Careful, Drake, don't take your old grappling hook,” Damian said earnestly, cutting into Bruce’s thoughts. “Here, use mine.”

“BRUCE!”

“Yes, yes, tell Father about my caring nature. I'm sure he'll be proud of me.”

Bruce shook his head in despair and went to face the horrors of the night, which were infinitely better than the horrors in his house. 

\------------

“Damian, my Little Beloved, join us,” Talia purred for the millionth time. The fight had concluded, with the assassins having been dispatched by the Bats, and only Talia was left standing. “You belong with the League, it is your destiny!”

“Mother, I cannot simply neglect my other responsibilities,” Damian huffed. “I am Robin, I have to look after so many things! I have Gotham, my cat, my dog, my cow, my Drake!”

“AAAGGH!”

Everyone turned to see Tim flying away as fast as he could, as Dick, Jason, and the wounded assassins collapsed from laughter. Talia looked questioningly at Damian, who only smirked. “My plans must be working, he's probably retiring early to get on a regular sleep schedule. Health is wealth, isn't it Mother? Mother?” Damian asked questioningly as Talia collapsed in fits of laughter as well. 

Bruce groaned, picking up his wayward children and making his way home. 

\-----------

“Bruce, do something! It's not right, we’re brothers!”

“Tim...”

“I can't believe Dami has a crush! Awww!”

“Shut up, Dick!”

“Yes, shut up, son,” Bruce grumbled. 

“Oh my god,” Jason chimed in, “all that time he spent ‘hating’ Tim was just pulling his pigtails!?”

“AWWW!” 

Bruce silenced his unhelpful children with a patented BatDad Glare (TM) and faced an angry Tim once more. “Tim, I know...”

“He sent me flowers pretending to be Kon! He threatened Kon and made him cry! He made me tea! What the heckity heck Bruce!?!”

Bruce hung his head. “I'm to blame for this,” he declared defeatedly. “Damian, come down here, please,” Bruce called, which had his youngest skittering into to the cave. 

“Yes, Father?”

“Damian,” Bruce breathed heavily, “I think you may have misinterpreted the specifics of what I told you. When I asked you to take care of Tim-”

“It wAS yOu!?” Tim yelled, horrified. 

“-I meant it in a brotherly fashion. I don't intend for you to care for him...incestuously.”

Damian wrinkled his nose and stepped back in horror. “Father, how could you?” He demanded, aghast. “I would never! I have only been caring for Drake because you told me that he was infirm and that I must shower him with attention to make sure he stays healthy! I've been planning and plotting all to make sure that Dake stays in good mental and physical health!”

The cave was silent after Damian’s defense of his actions. Finally, Tim roused himself enough to ask, “That explains the tea. What about the flowers and your creepy card, pretending to be Kon?”

“I didn't think that you would see through the pretense,” Damian admitted, surprised. “You were weeping like a lovestruck fool, and I was concerned that you would cry yourself to the point of sickness, or be compromised in the field. The pretense was to snap you out of your mood. If left to me, I would advise you that the Clone is not worthy of a Wayne, and that you should discard him immediately. I would much rather you dated a worthy ally or even a foe, or better yet, remain celibate. Clearly, your romantic choices of Fatgirl and the Clone show your impaired ability to judge people.”

Tim stared at Damian with wide eyes for several seconds before deflating. “So you were just...”

“I was trying to fulfill the mission that Father has set for me! I shall not fail!”

Tim burst out laughing maniacally and swooped Damian up into a hug. “Oh thank Satan! You don't have a crush on me! You're just socially maladjusted!”

Dick and Jason looked disappointed that their ideas for their own family soap opera had not panned out, and sulked while Damian spluttered in Tim’s embrace. “Damn,” Jason huffed, “The Bold and the Batty just got cancelled. Guess I’ll have to start thinking of a script for my new family soap opera.”

“Jason, your siblings do not exist for your entertainment,” Bruce growled.

“Ah!” Jason gasped, as inspiration hit him. “But you do! In the next season of B.A.T.M.A.N., stay tuned as Bruce and Ollie get it on in a drunken one night stand! What will the batkids think? OW!” Jason cried as Bruce whacked him around the head.

“Father!” Damian yelled, scandalized. “How could you!? I refuse to have that sub-par, arrow-toting, elf as my papa!”

Bruce glared at his sons and slunk away into the shadows to ruminate about his two infinitely stupid sons (Dick and Jason), his traumatized son (Tim), his hyper-impressionable son (Damian), and to wonder when Cassandra would come back home.


End file.
